Escapism

According to my Steam account, I've played Vampire: the Masquerade - Bloodlines for 41 hours. I've put over 126 hours into Grand Theft Auto IV. Combined, that's over four 40 hour work weeks I've put into those two games -- a month of effort that might have been spent completing a project, learning a language, writing a novel, or any number of other productive efforts. Instead, I spent those hours guiding Nico Bellic's quest for a new beginning through the streets of Liberty City and pretending to stalk the dark shadows of LA as a rogue Kindred, rebelling against the powers trying to control him and hold on to what's left of his humanity.

I remember these particular games not so much for how well they were produced or the stories they told, but because I played them both during some of the most stressful times in my life. Before the twins arrived, Hanna was on bed rest, unable to move much aside from going between the couch and our bed, and her doctor's appointments every other week. This meant that the chores we normally split fairly evenly in our household all fell to me; cooking, cleaning, shopping, paying the bills, running errands, I was doing it all. In the evenings, once the long day's work had finally been accomplished, I would settle down with a cup of tea and immerse myself in the plots of the Camarilla. When the twins were born, the amount of work and stress increased even more, and it was a welcome escape to step into Nico Bellic's farcical world, even if sometimes all I did was drive around and listen to the radio stations in the game. During this tiring, stressful time in my life, I really craved escapism, some distraction to occupy my mind for an hour or two instead of the worries that took up the rest of the day.

This is yet another reason why Child's Play resonates with me. Knowing how much the simple pleasure of a video game or a movie or a good book helps me, how much more does a kid in the hospital need that kind of comfort and escapism? The boys and girls in children's hospitals -- and their families -- deserve every single second of comfort and distraction they can get. I just finished doing my Child's Play donation, but I don't feel like I bought video games and art supplies; I bought some kid the ability to experience the wackiness of the King of All Cosmos instead of dwelling on the pains of recovering from surgery. Thanks to me, some boy or girl can spend hours drawing or painting, instead of wondering about the test results or if the new drugs will work. I didn't donate gifts; I helped give respite in a difficult time to people who need it most.

You can do that, too. Simply visit the Child's Play Web site and choose the hospital you'd like to help out, then spend a few moments with their Amazon wish list. It really is just as easy as that. Or you can give a cash contribution via PayPal. And if I haven't convinced you, read some of the testimonials and see for yourself just how much good you can do.